Perfect
by TehHunterPuppie
Summary: Cameron is a twelve year old girl with a traumatizing past. She manages to find help in the prison. She becomes fond of the group; especially Daryl and Maggie; but what lies will be uncovered from her down the path? Contains OC. If you are easily offended, do NOT read.
1. Chapter 1

Cameron sat in the dark room of the once overrun gun store that her group was settled in. She had weaponry, little food and water, enough to keep her alive for another few months. The only thing missing? Her group. Her mother, father, friends, and neighbors were dead and buried in the back of the gun store She was twelve and alone for months on end, learning to mature into a twelve year old adult. She studied up on the things that now roamed the earth, eating whatever flesh they could land their hands on. She was starting to go insane by herself, and decided she need to toughen up and find another group that would accept her. She grabbed her shotgun, rifle, and pistol. She flung the rifle around her shoulder and put her pistol in her belt with safety on. She stuffed her backpack with ammunition and food, then kicked open the door with her black boots.

Walkers ran at her from every possible direction. She ran and shot simultaneously, landing a round in a walker's head and watching the skull explode from the inside out. She shot again at a young woman running at her, blowing its jaw clean off of its ugly face. One was gaining on her, so she threw herself around and stuck a pocket knife in its brain. Once she faced forward, she saw a gate leading to a prison. She noticed the ledge was steep, and walkers were bound to get her any second. She took one shot, and the recoil threw her off the ledge, knocking her out cold when she landed.  
"Dad, I heard a gunshot coming from behind the gate!" Carl yelled at his father. "It was probably just Glenn. Don't think too much of it." He replied blandly. Right at that moment, Glenn came inside the cell block. "Rick, get out here, now!"  
Carl shot the walkers that were surrounding Cameron. "Is she dead?" Questioned Hershel, hopping over to the scene. "Naw. She's still breathing. Help me get her inside." Rick motioned for Glenn to hold up the poor girl's head. "Is she bit?" asked Carl. Glenn studied the bare skin on her. "Not that I can see, kid."

When Cameron woke up, there was a bandage squeezing her head underneath her beanie, and she was enclosed behind bars. She heard the whispers of people on the other side of the bars. People! She thought. "Should we let the little girl stick 'round here?" she heard a man with a strong southern accent ask. "I doubt she's a threat. She looks about my age." another questioned, only this time a child. "We can't be too careful. We don't know who to trust." Suddenly, the cry of a baby shattered the silence. A baby? She thought, rather concerned. A woman's voice quieted down the baby, sounding very motherly towards it. That must be the mother. She thought. "Carl, hold your sister for a sec. I need to go check on the girl."

Cameron began to panic. She froze, her gaze toward the bars. Two men approached it, one with a crossbow and a sleeveless shirt, the other with a long sleeved shirt rolled to his biceps; this one older than the other. "Well look who decided to wake up," the one with the crossbow said. She found who the southern accent belonged to. The other motioned for her to come up to the door. She did what he asked, only very slowly and while reaching for her pocket knife. Gone. Same as her other weapons. "Looking for these, girlie?" The crossbow wielding one held up her shot gun, rifle and pistol. "We found you outside the gates. Do you want to tell us how you got here?" The older one asked.

"Shit...well, I was camping out in a gun store 'round here and..." Cameron was cut off by the older man. "The one just up there? That was overrun! You mean to tell me you cleared that out yourself?" he said. "Well, I used to be part of a group of adults, but..." she swallowed hard as her eyes started to tear up. "My parents...they..." she spoke shakily. "How long you been alone?" The younger one asked. "Few months...maybe six or seven..." she was still speaking shakily. "I'm not a threat to your group here, sir..." she said with her head down. A tear dripped off her nose. The older man unlocked the door for her. "Come over here and meet everybody. I still can't fork over your weapons, okay?" Cameron nodded. "Thanks, sir. I just need to be around people..."

"I'm Rick, and this is my son Carl." He looked toward the boy in the sheriff hat. The boy waved shyly to her. "This is Daryl." he looked to the man with the crossbow. "We didn't get your name, doll." Daryl said. She hesitated. "Cameron." she finally choked.  
Cameron met everyone. For some reason, she was most fond of Daryl and Maggie. "There's just one last person you haven't met yet." Carl said, pointing a finger up to Carol and Judith. They climbed the stairs up to them. Cameron put a hand over her own mouth. "She's adorable...your sister?" Cameron asked. Carl nodded. She looked over to Carol. "Are you her mother?" Carol looked at the floor. "No." she replied. "Oh..." "Would you like to hold her, Cameron?" Her face lit up. She nodded. For the first time since her second cousin was born, she was holding a baby. "Daryl calls her Little Ass-kicker." Carol giggled. "Sounds like a name I'd give her." Cameron joked.


	2. Chapter 2: The Things I May Fail

Cameron made her way over to Maggie's cell. "Hi Cameron. What do you need?" she asked friendlier than anybody had ever talked to her. "Nothing. Just..kinda exploring." she walked out and into an empty cell across form her. "Anybody camping out in here?" She asked Carl. He shook his head. "Then hello new cell."  
Cameron draopped her backpack in the corner and tossed a can of tomato soup to Carl. "I've got food." Carl's face lit up. "Dad, come over here!"  
Cameron started to unload the food out of her backpack. There was enough combined to last them months. Maybe even a year. That night, they had the biggest meal for a while. Glenn poked Daryl. "Maybe now you won't have to eat squirrels anymore."  
Cameron fell onto her bed. "Ugh..." even though it was eight o' clock, she fell asleep. She knew that it was safe where she was. She trusted these people. She fell asleep easy knowing the people here would treat her with the respect she never experienced.  
At around eleven forty five, Rick woke Cameron. "Hey kid, we need your help. You a good shot?" he whispered. "Yeah. Why?" She answered. "You seemed not to be afraid of walkers. We need you to get up in the tower with Daryl and help him clear out any walkers that get inside the fence overnight. Also, we need to test you. Okay?" She nodded. Though she was young, she was about as mature as Daryl himself. Rick handed Cameron her sniper rifle back. "Don't be betrayin' me with this, now." She clipped on a silencer. She climbed out to the tower, careful not to wake anybody. "Hey, Daryl." she whispered to him. "What're you doin' out here so late?" He asked her. "Rick asked me to come up here and help you snipe." she said. "Fine. I could use some help here anyway."  
Daryl pointed to a distant walker. "Y'see that one? Shoot it." Cameron raised the scope to her eye. POP! She shot the walker square in the forehead. "Nice shootin', Annie Oakley. Can you help me clear the sons of bitches out?" he whispered enthusiastically. "Sure." Daryl let loose a round in one walker's head the same time Cameron did. In ten minutes, the walkers were mere bloody heaps scattered across the field.  
"Your group must've been good people." Daryl said suddenly. "Especially...your parents." Cameron nodded. "They were. "One time my dad used a bow and a single arrow to clear out forty six zomb-...walkers. It was damn cool...but my father hated me..." she said. "My parents, they killed themselves. They expected me to do it too. But I had to live for them. For my mom. The rest of my group...eaten alive..." a tear rolled off Cameron's chin...and another...and another.  
"We lost a bunch of our own," The Dixon started. Amy, Dale, T-Dog, Shane, Lori,...Sophia..." Daryl said. "Lori was Rick's wife. She died in childbirth. And Sophia...Carol's daughter. I spent e'ryday looking for 'er..." Cameron could see that Daryl cared about Sophia. "I'm so sorry." "Damn, it's nothing to be sorry about. This world's a big piece of shit now..." Daryl almost yelled. "Don't I know it..." Another tear fell off of Cameron's pretty face. She threw herself into Daryl's arms. She hugged him out of her sadness and despair. Even though she thinks she's tough, she really let her emotions blow up. "This is what I've been afraid of happening for four years, Daryl...the apocalypse..." she cried into his muscular shoulder. "Look, it's alright. You're with us now. You're gonna be fine."  
Things got pretty quiet around one thirty, and Cameron dozed off. Daryl decided to let her sleep, so he picked her up and carried her back to the cell she called her territory. "She fell asleep, huh? Things must've been boring out there." Rick said as he kept watch on the inside. "She's a damn good shot, between the eyes every single time."

When Cameron awoke, she found Carl waiting outside her doorway. "Carl, what are you doing at this hour? It's like seven." she whispered at the boy. He lifted his hat out of his eyes with the barrel of his gun. "Checking on you." He said gently. "I can take care of myself, kid."  
Cameron carved things into the wall with her pocket knife, waiting for everyone to wake up. She was an early riser. Since she figured no one would wake up any time soon, she stood up and walked up to the mirror. She studied herself in it. Big brown eyes, short brown hair, a purple plaid shit with the sleeves rolled up, grey skinny jeans, and a purple beanie. She was polka-dotted with blood and dirt. She had developing feminine curves, and big soft lips. She was a cute middle school girl to any middle school boy...  
Later that day, Cameron was told to stay back for a supply run, and that didn'y feel right. Back in her old group, she was the best hunter, ironically. She explained this to Daryl and Maggie, who were going to get supplies and baby formula. Maggie said she would stay behind to let her go. "Just please...be careful." Maggie begged her. "I know, I ain't as irresponsible as you think I am." Cameron climbed on the back of Daryl's motorcycle, and they were off.

Cameron had never been on a motorcycle before, so she didn't know what to expect. She clung to Daryl's shirt like she was gonna get sucked into a black hole or something. "Easy, I ain't gonna let you fall off this thing. You can loosen your grip, k?" he explained. She replied with an 'alright' but didn't loosen the grip.  
On his back, Daryl carried his crossbow. She thought this was fascinating. She removed one hand from his side and felt the arrow loaded in the crossbow. It wasn't very sharp, but she figured the impact from the bow would shoot it hard enough it could kill.  
Daryl and Cameron finally reached their destination: a small market that had a sign in front that read: THE SUPPLIES ARE OURS. LEAVE. "Screw that," Cameron said. Daryl looked at her for a second. "I like you, girlie. You're just like myself as a kid." Daryl said as he opened the door. A corpse with a wound on the top of its skull sat against a register station. Cameron poked it with her foot. "You dead?" she joked. "Oh yeah. Sucker's dead alright." Daryl said, shoving his knife in the wound to make sure it didn't get up. "Can you make some room in that backpack o' yours? We need all the baby shit we can get." Daryl explained, tossing a package of bottles her way. Cameron started to take things from the shelves and piled them into the backpack.  
While Daryl looked for antibiotics for the group, Cameron wandered into the back. She found booze back there. She made sure Daryl wasn't watching her, and took a small bottle of whiskey. Cameron turned back to recollect with Daryl, and out of nowhere, a walker pounced on her.  
She wasn't ready, she was unarmed, and she was on the ground with a one hundred twenty pound walker on top of her. "D-DARYL! HELP...ME! PLEEEASE!" She screamed. The walker was scratching at her and trying to sink its teeth into her precious skin. She looked one last time at the walker that was about to kill her, and an arrow impailed through its skull at the perfect moment. One last splatter of blood onto Cameron's face, and it lay dead.  
Cameron stood up by the help of Daryl's strong arm, threw her arms around him, and buried her face into his chest. "You're alright. What did I tell you? Stick with me and you'll be just fine, doll. Just calm down."  
Cameron and Daryl got back on the motorcycle. On the way back to the prison, Cameron was able to loosen her grip on Daryl, since she trusted him so much more now. "You know, I was trying to impress you on how much I thought I was tough and mature, but this ain't exactly the best start, huh?" Cameron said. Daryl chuckled. "Nah, but you're still a kid. You best enjoy it while you can."  
Carl and Beth opened up the gates so Daryl and Cameron could get back inside. Once they got back in the prison, Cameron made sure to hide the bottle of whiskey before forking over the supplies. "Thanks for saving me, Daryl. I never did thank y'all." Cameron said as she handed the backpack to him.  
While the rest of the group ate dinner, Cameron insisted on staying in her cell. She lied on her bed, exhausted and stressed. She unscrewed the whiskey cap, and pressed it against her lips. What are you doing? You're twelve for god's sake! She thought as she quenched her problems with the power of alcohol. As it rolled down her throat, it burned and made her cough a bit. But she didn't give up, and drank the whole bottle of whiskey. Though it was slightly smaller than normal whiskey bottles, she was only a kid and was drinking alcohol. She hid the empty bottle under her pillow, where there was a hole in the matress. She began to she double, and began to get dizzy. Finally, she had no control of what she was doing.  
Close to everyone in the group was settling down and getting ready for bed. They were all in their cells. It was around ten thirty.  
Cameron walked dizzily into a random cell and leaned against the frame. "Hey." Carl said, clearly not noticing her drunkeness. "Hi!" Cameron said drunkily. "Are you okay, Cam?" Carl asked. "Better than everrr...!" She replied, throwing her arms down. "What happened back at that market? Did you hit your head or something? Like really hard?" Carl asked, sarcastically but concerned. "Dude, there's like three of you. It's awesome...!" She whispered, cupping her hands around her mouth. "You're tired," he said. "Let's get you to your room." Carl guided Cameron to her room by her shoulders. When she walked through the door, she collapsed. Then, started to twist her hands and feet. Finally, she broke out into a full seizure.  
"Dad, help! There's something wrong with Cameron!" Carl yelled. Rick, Hershel, and Daryl ran over to the scene. "She's having a seizure," Hershel started. "We can't restrain it. She'll get seriously hurt if we do." Rick slicked back his hair. "What the hell happened, Carl?" Rick said. Before Carl could answer, Cameron went still. "What's wrong with her, old man?!" Daryl questioned. "Calm down and help me get her on the table, you two."  
Cameron lie still on the steel table in which Hershel was examining her. All of a sudden, Cameron's eyes shot wide open and she threw herself off of the table. Before she could make it anywhere, she threw up on the middle of the floor. Maggie ran over to her. Cameron finished vomiting and leaned up against a wall. "Are you alright, doll?" Maggie asked as she pat her back. "No. I feel like shit. Can I just go to sleep so we can discuss this in the morning?" Cameron asked.  
She woke up to continuous vomiting, just as she guessed. I should just come clean. I drank. But who do I tell? Cameron thought. She thought she had enough trust in Daryl to confess to him. Cameron walked dizzily over to Daryl's cell. "Daryl?" Cameron said. Daryl looked up from his knife. "Can you keep a secret?" she asked. "Sure, doll." Cameron looked at him in the eye. "Last night, I was really stressed...and I..." She swallowed hard. "Spit it out, girlie!" Daryl commanded. "I drank a bottle of whiskey."


	3. Chapter 3: Happening Too Fast

Cameron's nose burned as the tears gushed out of her eyes. "I'm so sorry Daryl..." she started, raising her hands to her face. "I'm such an idiot." Daryl didn't know how to respond. A bottle of whiskey? "You're not an idiot, darlin'. Just don't do it again. Like you said, you were under pressure. Now keep quiet and tell no one what you did. A'rite?" he said, a little uncertain with every word. This girl obviously had some issues. A father that paid no attention to her, being alone for months on end, nearly getting killed every other day. These things can really mess people up.

Cameron walked back up to her room. It was only about ten in the morning, and the sun glared through the cracks on her window. She stared through it, and there stood near four hundred walkers running at the gates. Cameron decided to keep her mouth shut this once. They were behind the gates, not a threat.

The door to Cameron's room was wide open. She figured it would be nice to take a nap. When she fell asleep, Daryl came into her room holding a flower. He put it on her shotgun, waiting for her when she woke up. He must have made noise walking out, because Cameron woke up when he did. She turned and saw the beautiful white flower sitting on her gun. "Cherokee Rose..." she whispered.

For some odd reason, every year on Cameron's birthday, it rained for hours. That's just what it did that day. "Hey Carl," she started. "What's today's date?" Carl glanced at the distant calender Carol kept. "July 23rd." he said. Cameron widened her eyes. "I'm thirteen," she whispered to herself. "Happy freaking birthday to me." she said. Carl must've heard her. "Whoa really? How old?" Cameron shook her head. "Oh my god, dude. I'm thirteen."

"Shouldn't we have a little celebration?" Carl asked. "No way, don't make a big deal out of my stupid birthday. It changes nothing." she said, cleaning her pocket knife. "Oh please. You want a party and you know it." Carl said, helping her up. "You wish. " She said as she walked out the door for lunch. "Hey Carl. You want to give me a birthday present? Lead me to the showers." Cameron yelled at him. He did just that. That night, she had the most refreshing shower in the world.

Around six, Cameron decided to take watch in the towers. She had the Cherokee Rose in her hair. She ran first over to Daryl. "Thanks." she said pointing to the flower that hung in her washed hair. "You shouldn't take me for soft. I ain't a soft son of a bitch, a'rite?" he said. "Whatever, Daryl."

Cameron took her pistol and axe with her to the towers. She didn't realize, but Carl was following her. He wanted to help her. Cameron reached the top of the tower, sat down, and fired away at walkers. What she didn't notice? The walker that had broke into the tower. Carl forgot to lock up the door.

A horde followed the one walker into the tower, and they quickly started up towards the two children. Cameron lifted her pistol. "You son of a-" BOOM! Carl shot at the first walker that ran in. Then, they started to pile in. Cameron and Carl shot every walker they could. They shot rounds in every direction, hoping one would land on a walker. Cameron took a step backward, bumping into the wall. Walkers cornered her.

Cameron shoved her gun in a walker's mouth and pulled the trigger. Its brains blew up everywhere, splashing on the surrounding walkers. She finally ran out of ammo, and reached in her pocket to get more rounds for her magazine. She took her hand out of her pocket, and felt a walker grab her shoulder. She screamed, and the walker sunk its teeth into her arm, ripping the flesh and muscle out of its place, letting blood rain down around her. She screamed again as she shot the walker in the forehead. "Cameron! NO!" Carl screamed. She ripped off her outer shirt, tied it around her elbow. Then she grabbed the axe, lifted it upward, then against her arm.

The axe came up and down again and again, sending Cameron into hysteria. Finally, she stood up and ran into the cell block. She left behind a trail of blood. When she reached where everyone was, she collapsed and said, "Help...Carl...".

The Cherokee Rose fell off of Cameron's hair and landed softly on the ground. "Daryl, help the girl. I'm going up with Carl." Rick said as he took out his revolver. Daryl ran over to Cameron who was bleeding out very slowly. "Guys, what the hell happened to her arm?!" Daryl demanded as he picked her limp bloody body off the ground. "Her axe...she chopped it off herself! She must have been bit!" Maggie screamed as she helped Daryl carry her back to her cell. "How could she have been bit if she was in the tower?!" Glenn yelled. Seconds later, Rick and Carl came back full of sweat and blood. "She was bit Rick. She cut off her own arm." Carol said as she panicked. "Yeah, the arm that she left attracted the walkers and saved my son."

While Rick called everyone else into the middle of the cell block, Daryl, Maggie and Hershel stayed in Cameron's cell. They covered her stump with gauze and bandages to prevent her from bleeding out. "I'm proud of you Maggie," Hershel started. "For knowing what to do." She giggled. "We've done this before." As Daryl stood up to go in the cell block with Rick, he placed the Cherokee Rose in her hair again. She was still unconscious but breathing.

"I was going to suggest that Cameron left, but she saved Carl. She's earned her place here." Rick said. "She is a child and alone after all."

Cameron fluttered her eyelids. "Maggie?" she whispered. She swung her head around. "Oh my god you're okay..." Cameron hugged Maggie. "This is some way to spend my thirteenth birthday, huh?" she said. "Getting bit by a walker, losing an arm." Maggie widened her eyes. "It's your birthday?" she asked. "Shh! Not too loud. Nobody needs to make a big deal out of it! You guys have better things to do."

"You know, it would be awesome if I could have like a Gatling Gun or something on my arm, or like a sword or knife!"

"That would be awesome."

"It still sucks I had to chop off my own arm, though. Hurt like a freakin...God I don't even know. Nothing's hurt so bad in my life."

"Yeah."

"Carl. This all is happening way too fast."

"I know."


End file.
